Beneath the Bleeding
by singingsupernatural
Summary: AU, Teen!chesters. Sam planned on staying under the radar at his new school. But when he starts falling for a girl with a messed up past, patterns begin to form and nothing seems to be what it is.
1. Chapter 1

**Beneath the Bleeding - Chapter One**

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><p><strong>Warnings: <strong>child-abuse (not on the boys), swearing and innuendo

**Disclaimer: **No matter how many birthday wishes I waste on it, I still don't own Supernatural

**Author's Note: **This is my first time posting so I hope you like. Like many others on this site, I believe that reviews are the equivalent to candy and I love candy.

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><p>Sam Winchester gripped his backpack tighter in his grip. He should be used to being the new kid in school thanks to his family's nomadic lifestyle. But now that Dean was eighteen and could legally drop out, Sam was completely alone on this. Completely and utterly alone.<p>

The school wasn't huge—but it wasn't small either. It was the typical small town high school. It was a fairly nondescript brick building and Sam was willing to bet money that, years later, he probably won't remember what the school looked like. This was only a stepping stone for a few weeks until John found another hunt and Sam would be forced to uproot and move onto another school. His plan was like every other: focus on school, maybe try to make friends with some of the kids and remain under the radar.

It wasn't hard to find the main office. From there, it was the same routine as every other school: he told the secretary his name, he or she welcomed Sam to the new school, Sam was given a schedule, and sent off after that. The only difference was that, this year, Sam had to do everything on his own. Dean usually took charge in situations like this. However, Sam was going to have to get used to the idea of having to do things on his own now.

It wasn't hard for Sam to find his locker. Locker number 005. He just had to find where the numbers began. He struggled with the combination a bit, but that was because people kept bumping into Sam, causing him to lose track on what number he was on.

"Do you need some help?" a girl asked him. Sam turned towards the girl next to him. She was bent over her own locker trying to put in her combination. A veil of blue-black hair obscured her face, but Sam just knew she was beautiful.

When Sam didn't respond, the girl looked up. Sam's prediction was right: she was beautiful. But, the first thing he truly noticed was her eyes: one blue and one brown. He remembered learning about how having two different colored eyes was a mutated gene. It reminded him of those X-Men comics that Sam read of Dean's when he had nothing else to do on those long car rides to nowhere.

"Um…do you need help?" she asked again, giving Sam a confused look. She wasn't dressed like many of the other girls Sam had seen around here with their short skirts and way-too-low-cut t-shirts. She wore a pair of jeans, a pair of combat boots and a modest black sweater.

Even though he didn't really need help with his locker combination and only needed to stop those jerks from bumping into him, he said, "Yes," and stepped back for the girl to do her work.

She twisted the lock and gave Sam instructions on how to do it. Her words were kind and understanding—not at all condescending, like many other students who tried to help Sam in the past. She seemed rather patient as she explained the necessary steps to using a combination lock.

"And that is how to open your locker," she added with a flourish as she lifted up the handle and opened Sam locker wide, blocking her own.

"Thanks," said Sam, placing his backpack on a hook. The girl went back to her own locker, acting as if Sam just disappeared. Normally he took the hint as a sign of him being unwanted, so it mildly freaked him out when he asked, "So, what's your name?"

Never taking her eyes off her own locker, she answered, "Erin."

Sam was slightly disappointed. Erin didn't feel like a name that would fit her. Despite his distaste for annoying young adult novels, they do have some interesting names. She seemed more like a Blaire or a Mimi then an Erin.

"And you are?" Erin asked, looking at Sam expectantly.

"Oh, I'm Sam," he said. The bell rang overhead and he looked down sheepishly. "Uh…it looks like it's time for class."

"I understand you're new here, so do you want some help finding your first hour?"

Sam looked down at the schedule he was given. He had English with Mrs. Derks. He told Erin and she pointed him in the right direction. It wasn't far from his locker, which was a good thing.

It was the usual introductions. What's his name? Where was he from? There's an open seat towards the back. So-and-so, please get Mr. Winchester here a book from the cupboard. Sam heard it a million times before.

They were on the poetry unit. They were currently overanalyzing "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allen Poe. Sam remembered having to memorize it last year at one of his schools. He wasn't surprised that he needed it memorized by Friday.

He was late for his next class: chemistry. Despite the teacher's obvious bitterness towards rule-breaking, she gave Sam a free pass for being a new student. But, much to Sam's relief, no introductions were given. Instead, she just announced Sam's name and told the students as a whole to make him feel welcome and help him catch up in his stoichiometry packet.

No one did, which was fine with Sam. This class seemed to be behind in his previous school, which means he was just reviewing it. Besides, stoichiometry was pretty much just math with the periodic table of elements mixed in with it.

By lunch, Sam had covered most of his classes for the day. He had only two afterwards: pottery and geometry. He was only taking pottery for lack of another good elective he could take that wasn't already completely full. Despite his lack of creative skills, Sam produced a fairly descent flat-bottom cup. Of course, the only criteria is that it can hold water.

His last class of the day was geometry. He was taken aback when he saw Erin sitting in the desk closest to the door. She was enthralled in what looked like a Stephen King novel. Sam wasn't able to catch the title before the teacher whisked him away for introductions. Once the embarrassment was over with, the teacher seated him in the only available seat: the one next to Erin.

"It seems that fate just wants us to be friends or something," Erin commented as the teacher told them to pull out last night's homework.

Sam nodded, almost afraid to comment in case the teacher heard. But, he was busy getting attendance recorded and, since the other students were talking, what was stopping him?

"Yeah, I guess," Sam said awkwardly.

"So, what brings you to Hellsville?" Erin wondered. Sam could only guess that 'Hellsville' meant 'Mooreland', which was the actual name of the town.

Sam told Erin the usual story on how John found a good job opportunity in the area. Not a total lie, but it was far from what Erin was most likely thinking.

"Wow, your dad found a job around here. Maybe he should give my dad some pointers on where to look." Suddenly, Erin's demeanor completely changed. She went from being friendly to almost hostile. But, she kept the comment light, but Sam could still tell.

However, their conversation was cut short when the teacher began reading off answers to last night homework. Sam kept glancing at Erin as she marked almost all of her answers wrong. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was not good at all with math.

Sam noted the score on the top of her page and, when her name was called, she added five points to it making it go from what should have been a low-D to at least a high-D and maybe even a low-C depending on the teacher's grading scale worked.

It bugged Sam the entire time they were writing down notes. It didn't seem like Erin would be the dishonest type. But she seemed more desperate than anything. Maybe she was failing the class and just needed a few extra points on her homework to give it that boost to bump it up. Sam also noticed how she hung on Mr. Smith's every word. She tries hard, she just doesn't understand it.

"Does anyone know the measure of angle A?" Mr. Smith asked the class, sweeping his eyes across the students. No one moved a muscle—no one even coughed. Sam didn't understand. That one was easy.

Tentatively, Sam raised his hand. Mr. Smith didn't hesitate to call on him, as if he was eager to find out what kind of student Sam was like: the one who knows or the one who tries to know. "63-degrees," Sam answered. Instead of looking at the teacher, he glanced down at Erin who was watching him curiously. When she realized that Sam was watching her, she turned away and pretended to write notes even though what she was writing didn't look like it made sense.

"Correct," Mr. Smith said, writing it in on the whiteboard. He went about explaining how to find the angle to the class, but Sam was only half-listening. He glanced towards Erin who was writing notes ferociously. She stopped momentarily to glance up at Sam. Quickly, he averted his gaze back to his own notebook. His pulse quickened with worry and it took him a few moments for him to glance back at her. She had her eyes on her notes but her movements seemed awkward.

Mr. Smith gave them the homework assignment just moments before the bell rang. Sam quickly scrawled the information on the top of the page and couldn't seem to leave the classroom quickly enough.

Sam knew that Erin thought he was some sort of freak. The way he kept looking at her and the way she always caught him. She would eventually catch on that Sam has feelings for her and Sam wasn't ready for that. He was only supposed to survive this school and move onto the next one.

He kept the stop at his locker short; worried that Erin might come along. He lucked out and was able to avoid her and was out the door before most were out of the classrooms.

The walk to the motel that the Winchesters were staying at wasn't far from the school, which Dean forced John to consider when they searched for a place to stay yesterday. In no time at all, Sam was walking into the motel room. It wasn't much with two queen beds, a small kitchenette and a bathroom in the back. Dean sat at the table looking through some old newspaper clippings. John no doubt had Dean doing research on whatever hunt he was on.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said. "How was school?"

"It's Sam and not bad," Sam said. They fell into silence while Sam pulled out the books he needed for his homework. "Uh…where's Dad?"

"At the library looking up some information on this spirit in the next town over," Dean answered, looking up at Sam. Sam squirmed under the gaze that seemed analytical. "Is something bothering you?"

To this day, Sam was still amazed on how intuitive Dean was towards him. They had only spoken with small talk, but it was almost as if Dean had a sixth sense that something was up with his little brother.

"Well…" Sam considered telling Dean about Erin. Of course, it would practically be an open invitation for teasing. But, at the same time, Dean would probably still give some valuable advice since he had more experience with girls. "There's this girl…"

"Ooh, it's only be a day and Sammy already has a girlfriend!"

"Like I said before, it's Sam and no, I don't have a girlfriend."

"But you'd like her to."

Sam only nodded.

Dean was probably coming up with a million different snide remarks about how his little brother was crawling to him for girl trouble, but he put his caring big brother face on instead and told Sam, "Just ask her out, dude. That's all you need to do."

"Yeah, but—but she isn't like any of the girls you like Dean."

"I know that," Dean said. "But, it goes the same for all girls: slutty or not. If you ask, they'll either say yes or no. Simple as that."

No, not as simple as that, Sam thought. If Erin said no to him, then that would leave him heartbroken and he didn't want that. But, in the same respect, he'd rather not leave Mooreland with this sort of regret either. He wanted to give it a chance, he was just afraid to.

"Look, just find some common ground and work from there," Dean said. "Just, make sure no one is in the motel room when you bring her back here and make sure you use protection."

"DEAN!"

"What? I don't want to see this mystery girl on some sort of reality show about teenagers being pregnant and calling you names for getting her knocked up."

Sam couldn't believe he was hearing this. "Dean, I don't want to go that far," he semi-lied. He'd like to think he didn't want to go that far with someone like Erin. "And I highly doubt she'd want to either."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Dean said. Just then, Dean's cell phone rings and he answers with a gruff, "Yes sir." Sam sighed. Dean was talking to John since he's the only one who gets a "Yes sir," when answering the phone. After another "Yes sir," Dean hung up and stood from the table. "Dad's done at the library. We'll stop someplace for dinner. Anything sound good?"

"Whatever's fine," Sam said, not looking at his older brother. Once Dean left, Sam plopped down and looked up at the stark-white ceiling. "I'm screwed," he muttered to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Beneath the Bleeding - Chapter Two**

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><p><strong>Warnings: <strong>child-abuse (not on the boys), swearing and innuendo

**Disclaimer: **No matter how many birthday wishes I waste on it, I still don't own Supernatural

**Author's Note: **BloodyRosie asked how Azazel is tied into the story. Hopefully this chapter will give at least a hint as to how he is important.

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><p>The next day, Erin stood next to her locker. All night, Sam had mulled over what he was going to say to her. He was going to invite her to the movies tomorrow night—simple as that. This wasn't like analyzing poetry. This was simple, clean and precise.<p>

At least, it's supposed to be.

It was supposed to be a simple boy asks girl, girl says yes and boy and girl go out on date. What Sam didn't count on was how he acted and reacted around Erin.

"Hey Erin," Sam said awkwardly as he fumbled with his locker combination. But, this could show disinterest and falsely prove that he was doing this halfheartedly. He then abruptly stopped and looked at Erin who was placing her backpack on a hook.

"Hey," she said. Sam noticed how she was wearing another sweater, even though it was unnaturally warm for April. Sam had ditched the sweatshirt the moment he stepped outside earlier in the morning. He would've even changed into shorts if he owned a pair that fit him. "I was worried yesterday. You kind of disappeared on me."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Sam said. He looked down, ashamed about his behavior yesterday. It was just an odd situation for him and he didn't like how vulnerable it made him feel. It's possible love just made some people feel like that.

"It's alright…just a little weird, I guess."

_Yeah,_ Sam thought, _my life is a little weird_.

"So, um…" Sam kept mentally telling himself that he can asked Erin. It shouldn't be so hard. Like Dean said: it's just a question. Of course, to Sam, it was more than that. Despite their closeness, it seems like they are completely different—Dean being bold and Sam being…well, he didn't know who he was, really.

"So, um, what?" Erin mocked. Sam didn't even realize that he had just stopped midsentence while he gave himself a mental pep talk. Sam felt like an idiot. No, he felt like a complete dumbass. There was no other name for him right now.

"So…how's life?" _How's life? Really? _Sam wanted to hit himself over the head for, not only unable to ask Erin to the movies, but for not even coming up with a good question to ask her instead. Sam should get stupid person of the year award.

"Um, good, I guess." It was obvious Erin was not expecting a question like that, which made Sam feel a thousand times worse (if that was even possible). Maybe she was expecting Sam to ask her out. Now, asking her was going to be next to impossible.

Just when Sam was about to say something else (not regarding the movies, of course), the bell rang for first hour. "I guess I'll see you around, Sam," Erin said, slamming her locker shut and walking towards her class. Sam just stood there, muttering insults to himself for not having the balls to ask Erin.

All day, Sam kept replaying the conversation with Erin. Despite knowing the answer to every question the teachers gave him, Sam could not verbally answer them. His throat hurt and he realized that it must have been from worry.

He dreaded going to geometry. It was the only class he had with Erin and he couldn't face her—not after this morning. But, when the bell rang for the last hour, Sam mustered up all his courage to head into Mr. Smith's classroom.

Erin was in her usual spot at the front. She had the same novel as yesterday. Sam hesitantly sat down next to her and she looked up at him. "Hey," she said, closing her book. "What's up?"

Sam needed to act cool, but it's almost like his brain just forgot how to function. "Good," Sam said, surprised how he was able to produce an audible sound, let alone a word. When the late bell rang, Mr. Smith instructed for the students to pull out their homework from last night. When he asked for scores, Erin fudged her grade again. Sam felt horrible for announcing his honest perfect mark.

"How do you understand any of this?" Erin asked him as Mr. Smith organized his notes for the day's lesson. She looked at him with her two-toned eyes and Sam noticed how sad they looked. "I am barely keeping up a passing grade in this class." She looked away from Sam, ashamed off what she admitted next. "If I told him my real grade for the homework, I would be failing."

Despite his feelings about cheating, Sam had to feel bad about Erin. She seemed so focused on school, even though she struggled with it. School came naturally to Sam. It was the closest thing he got to normal and he enjoyed every moment of it. Well, except for today while he fretted over the idea of asking Erin out to the movies tomorrow.

"If you want to, I can tutor you." Sam's mouth moved before his brain could figure out what to say. He couldn't believe how he had just asked her that. It almost seemed surreal. If he hadn't just witnessed it, he wouldn't believe that he would actually say something like this.

Erin smiled—she actually smiled at the idea. "I'd love that." _Why did she have to say _love_, _Sam questioned.

"Maybe we could head to the library after school." There goes Sam's mouth again. "Only if, you know, it works for you."

"No, after school is great," she said, hastily. "It's a date."

"Erin, Sam, do you two have something to announce to the class?" Mr. Smith asked. Sam didn't even realize that he had started his lesson.

"No sir," Erin said, jumping the bullet so Sam didn't have to. Sam immediately felt horrible that he didn't say it first. It made him seem like he was leaving the answer to Erin like some sort of hick. A true gentleman wouldn't do something like that.

Mr. Smith went on with his lesson, but shot Erin and Sam dirty looks once in a while. Erin ferociously wrote down her notes. Sam wrote down the important points, mostly so he knew exactly what he was up against when he tutored Erin tonight.

Oh God, that is _right_ after this class. Why didn't he say 5 o'clock or something? Maybe suggesting after school made him seem desperate. He could only hope that Erin didn't notice.

What worried Sam was why he was suddenly so analytical of his actions. Normally, he just went with the flow and didn't question his movements unless he screwed up on training or on a hunt. Maybe this was happened when you were in love: every time you mess it, it seems like a million times worse than it really is.

When the bell rang dismissing class for the day, Sam began to panic. This was it. He was about to help Erin with her geometry. The school part didn't bother Sam as much as having to help Sam. What if he made a complete fool of himself?

After getting their backpacks from their lockers, Sam and Erin headed to the library, which was about a block away from the school. On the way there, Erin and Sam just…talked. They talked about school, their favorite books and even music. He mostly listened to Erin talk about her music preference and how the current hits weren't as good as the classics. Dean would approve of her in a second since she was a huge AC/DC fan.

Even the actual tutoring part came natural to Sam. Erin listened intently as Sam explained the step-by-step process to figure out how to find certain angles and certain sides of different triangles. She almost seemed to hang on ever word he said, as if whatever he explains would end world hunger or something. She slowly began to understand the work and was even able to do a couple of problems (mostly) on her own.

When a librarian came around announcing that they were closing in a few minutes, Erin suddenly looked panicked. She looked at the clock on the wall. "Oh my God, I didn't think it was six already." She hastily collected her materials. "I'm sorry Sam, but I really need to get going. Thank you—just, thank you very much for your help."

Sam was confused. He watched as she practically sprinted out of the library, receiving many _ glances from the librarians. Why was she so freaked that it was six o'clock at night. He was also scared on how Dean and John would take his lateness, but not to the point where he could have a heart attack at the idea.

He walked the short distance to the motel. The Impala wasn't anywhere in sight, so John must still be doing something with his current hunt. He saw a light shining through the window and someone walking around inside. Dean was inside, which was a minor relief for Sam. At least Dean would understand better than John on why Sam was so late coming home.

Sam was about to open the door to the motel room when his skull felt like it was about to split in two. He cried out in agony as he fell to the ground. The migraine intensified and he was suddenly not in the motel parking lot anymore. He was in a mobile home lot. The first thing he noticed was Erin's blue-black hair bouncing up and down as she ran down the side of the road. She turned sharply onto the front porch of one of the mobile homes. Unlike many of the others, this was looked like it had seen better days with peeling paint and a rusty Chevy truck parked out front.

Why would Erin be in a place like this? This was redneck central. She seemed like the type to live in a suburb where she lived right next door to her best friend and across the street was her crush who doesn't know that she exists. Sam really should stop making assumptions about Erin's life, especially since it actually isn't much different from his.

Erin stepped past the threshold and into the living room that was in definite need of a little TLC. Empty beer cans and half-empty bottles of Jack littered the floor and the ugly dark orange carpeting looks like it never met a vacuum before. Lounging on a garbage dump-worth couch was a man in his mid-forties. He was balding and had a beer gut squeezed into a shirt that was much too small for him. This must be Erin's father. Sam felt bad about who was half of Erin's DNA. She seemed so much better than the man who smelled like stale gym socks and probably doesn't even have a stable job.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked, his voice raspy. There was a pack of smokes sitting next to him on the end table. He reached for one and lit it with a quick flick of his lighter.

"Sorry, I was at the library," Erin said, not looking at her father. "I lost track of time."

"I expected dinner an hour ago," Erin's father muttered. He stood up and walked over to Erin. She began to shiver as the man approached her.

"Look, I-I'm sorry," Erin mumbled, backing away. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward.

"I don't give a damn what excuse you have," he said. "I don't ask much from you, but I would like my dinner ready when I am ready from my friggin' dinner."

Erin's father pushed her into the wall. She crashed into it with a loud, echoing _thunk_. She slumped down onto the floor, a huge dent where her head came into contact with the wall.

Before Erin had time to recover, he yanked her up into a standing position. She was obviously not ready for it, since she could barely keep steady and his grasp was the only thing keeping her vertical.

"You are a selfish bitch," he shouted. "I give you a roof over your ungrateful ass and, how do you repay me?"

"I-I'll go m-make you dinner," Erin stuttered, trying to free herself from her father's grasp. "J-just let go, please."

Erin's father threw her to the ground. She skidded across the carpet. Before she could even try to stand up, he placed his foot on top of her throat, cutting her oxygen off.

"Don't even bother."

He leaned his entire weight onto his daughter's windpipe. Her eyes bugged out and her mouth was wide open, fruitlessly attempting to draw in air.

"Don't even fucking bother."

The scene abruptly changed. Sam was back in the parking lot of the motel. He was sprawled out on the sidewalk and was gasping for air. Once his eyes focused more, he saw Dean hovering over him.

"Dude, are you okay?" Dean asked, helping Sam sit up.

Sam tried to think back to the vision he saw. Erin's father's words swirled around him when he realized something. "Erin is going to be murdered. We've got to stop it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Beneath the Bleeding - Chapter Three**

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><p><strong>Warnings: <strong>child-abuse (not on the boys), swearing and innuendo

**Disclaimer: **No matter how many birthday wishes I waste on it, I still don't own Supernatural

**Author's Note: **Happy Belated Holidays everyone (although, New Years is still coming up, but whatever). I'd like to hand out virtual cookies to those who have reviewed.

* * *

><p>"What are you talking about Sam?" Dean asked his little brother, confused as to what he was talking about. "It was just some weird dream you had while you fainted."<p>

"No, it was more than that," Sam argued. "It _felt _real, Dean." There was no other way to explain it. He just hoped that he could convince Dean that this situation was dire. He didn't want to waste another second standing here trying to convince him.

Dean just stared at Sam for a moment. "Okay, so, I'll humor you. This Erin chick is going to be murdered. Okay. But, how do we find her?"

"She lives in a trailer park," Sam answered. "I've seen the outside of it. I'd recognize it anywhere. C'mon Dean, we probably don't have much time left."

Sam could tell by the look on Dean's face that he considered believing him. Sam began to panic that Erin might already be dead. He didn't want that—he really didn't want that.

"Please, Dean. She isn't just some random girl I met at school. She's the one that I told you about. She's the one I really like." Sam couldn't believe that he was saying this. He couldn't believe that he was actually admitting this to his brother. He had a feeling that admitting this was going to bite him in the ass one day, but he couldn't worry about that right now. If a lifetime of mockery saved Erin's life, he would gladly take it every day of the year.

Momentarily, a look of sadness crossed Dean's features. "Okay. If you believe that she is in trouble, we'll go save her."

Sam was relieved that he had finally convinced Dean. But the battle had only just begun. Now, they just had to get to the trailer park as soon as possible.

Without even verbally coming up with a strategy, Dean found an unlocked car in the parking lot and hotwired it. He broke every driving law to get to the one and only trailer park within the city limits.

"Okay, just look for a rusted out Chevy truck," Sam said, his eyes straying from car to car. He began to lose hope as they came closer and closer to the end. That's when he noticed the Chevy and the trailer he saw in his vision. "There," he said.

Dean didn't even fully stop the car before Sam climbed out, running for the trailer. He heard shouting halfway there. It gave him a sudden burst of adrenaline to get him there faster.

"You are a selfish bitch," Sam heard Erin's father screeched from inside the trailer. "I give you a roof over your ungrateful ass and, how do you repay me?"

Before Erin could reply, Sam burst through the door with no strategy whatsoever. If John or Dean saw him like this, he'd be given a couple extra miles running as punishment.

"Who the hell are you," Erin's father questioned. He released his grasp on Erin and she slumped to the floor. She was coughing and sputtering. She didn't seem to know that it was Sam coming to her rescue. "Get the hell outta my house."

Seeing Erin on the floor and the murderous look in the bastard's eyes caused Sam to see red in anger. Before he could even think about making a move, he tackled Erin's father, sending both of them into the grubby kitchen.

Almost effortlessly, the man pushed Sam off. For being out of shape, Erin's father was strong. Of course, with all of his years of training, Sam wasn't some punk kid who thought he could take on a human male. He was trained in dealing with the supernatural. This man was nothing.

At least, Sam thought he was nothing.

"What is wrong with you, you little freak."

"I should be asking you that," Sam said with confidence. So, it wouldn't make the book or world's greatest comebacks. Snide remarks were Dean's thing. Sam just didn't want to deal with this man's shit.

For a second, the man's eyes flashed black. "Do you really want to screw with me, boy?"

Sam began to panic. This wasn't Erin's father at all—it was a _demon_. A cold blooded demon. Sam had to learn all about them, even though he never dealt with one before. However, he learned that you can't actually kill a demon: you have to exorcise it back to Hell.

Now, if only he could think of the exorcism.

Thanks to him overanalyzing the situation, the demon had the time to stand up and get its bearings. With a flick of his hand, he sent Sam flying towards the opposite wall and pinned him to the wall. There was a psychic force field holding Sam in place. He wasn't able to move and he could barely breathe. It was suffocating.

"Now, my orders were to kill the girl since my boss doesn't like the fact that you two have become buddy-buddy. But, maybe I'll kill both of you. Who knows, I might get a raise for sending two of his children to an early grave."

Sam had no clue what the demon was talking about. Boss…killing…his children…Sam couldn't, for the life of him, comprehend what the demon was saying. He might as well have been speaking Japanese.

The demon began to advance on Sam. Sam squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he wished the demon away, it just might disappear. But that was just wishful thinking on Sam's part. No matter how much hope one has, it never is enough.

Before the demon was within a foot of Sam, it froze. Sam slowly twitched his eyes open, curious as to what was holding the demon up from killing him. The demon looked at him wide-eyed, the look of complete horror on his face. Sam couldn't hear the sound of his older brother reciting the Latin exorcism needed to send the demon back to Hell.

Black smoke began to pour out of the meatsuit. Once it all cleared, Erin's father fell to the floor. Dead.

Sam fell from the wall, but used the kitchen table to save him from crashing onto the ground. He looked around until his eyes lay upon his brother standing in the entrance of the kitchen while assessing the damage.

"What was that, Sam?" Dean asked. "Why would you run into a situation without even thinking? If Dad—" Dean looked like he was about to add more, but the sound of groaning came from the living room. It was Erin. It sent Sam pushing past his brother and towards his friend.

He knelt down and checked on Erin. She had a major goose egg growing on the back of her head. There were red marks where the demon grabbed her neck and forced her to stand up. She was badly shaken and Sam knew she probably had more injuries, but those would have to wait.

"Hey Erin," Sam said, keeping his voice low and even. After when Erin had just been through, he didn't know how she was going to react.

"Sam?" she muttered. Her eyes were completely unfocused but were facing in his general direction. "Whuh…what happened?"

"That's not important right now," Sam said, gently squeezing her arm. When she flinched in pain, he removed his grip completely. "C'mon, we need to get you out of here."

"But…my dad…is he okay?"

Sam couldn't believe it. Erin was inches away from being killed by the hands of her father and she was wondering if he was okay. Maybe she developed Stockholm Syndrome. Then again, it was her father...well, maybe it was her father this entire time.

"We need to get you someplace safe." Sam completely ignored Erin's question. He hoped he wouldn't ever have to answer it.

"Hey, c'mon." Dean was suddenly behind Sam and he extended a hand to help Erin up. She hesitated for a moment, but when Sam mentioned that it was his older brother, she relaxed a little bit and accepted the help.

Slowly, she stood up. Sam grabbed her sides and stood up with her, giving her a little more balance. When she was about to reach full height, she collapsed into Sam's arms.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, panicked.

"My ankle," Erin mumbled. "I think it's sprained."

Sam didn't like it, but he was not surprised that this happened. She was tossed around quite a bit by the demon. Without even thinking, Sam pulled Erin's arm around his shoulder. Dean did the same with her other arm and the trio awkwardly walked down to the hotwired car.

Once Erin was settled in the passenger's seat, Dean turned to Sam. "Head back to the motel," he commanded. "I'll take care of the body."

Sam nodded. He walked around the car and towards the driver's seat. "Hey kid." Sam looked up at Dean. "Take care of her injuries. If they are life threatening, call an ambulance. Just ignore Dad's rule."

John wasn't a huge fan of ambulances. One had to be on the brink of death before he would be willing to send in a third party. They lucked out that they never really needed a hospital. They have found ways to help themselves.

Sam wanted to call an ambulance anyway, but he knew that that might cause more trouble than it was worth. He climbed into the car just as Dean walked into the trailer.

The ride back to the motel was awkward and silent. Erin leaned against the door the entire time, looking like she was lost in thought. Sam kept glancing over her way.

By the time they made it back to the motel, it was pitch black out. Sam lucked out, since the Impala still wasn't there. He hoped Dean would be back before John got to the motel. Sam didn't think he could explain everything, and if he could he really didn't want to.

He helped Erin out of the car and helped her into the motel room. Sam helped her lie down on the nearest bed. She looked so fragile as she lay there. Sam wanted more than anything than to just lie down beside her and just ignore the rest of the world. However, Erin's ankle was sprained and there were probably other injuries that Sam hasn't discovered yet.

Sam started off by removing Erin's too-small shoes. Her right ankle was swollen to twice its normal size. He used a pillow to elevate it for now, but he was going to have to wrap it up soon so it doesn't get worse.

The next thing Sam was going to do was check on Erin's head injury, but Erin had other plans for him. "Hot," she mumbled. That's when Sam noticed how sweaty she was.

Being as careful as possible, Sam helped her sit up and awkwardly removed her sweater. Underneath, she only had on a bra and slip. On a normal day, Sam would have been embarrassed to see a girl like this. However, all the cuts and bruises that lined her arms and abdomen distracted him.

Now he understood the sweater during the hot day. Erin didn't want anyone else to notice how she was being abused. It was a terrible thing and it made Sam sick that he didn't notice it before.

"Hold on," Sam said, gently laying Erin back down on the bed. "I'll go get you some water." From the fridge, Sam produced a bottle of water. He opened it up and pressed it to Erin's lips. She slowly took minute sips of it. When she was done, she turned her head away from it. Some of it sloshed down her neck.

Sam placed the bottle back on the nightstand. He kept glancing at the door, hoping that Dean would be back soon. But soon wasn't soon enough. Dean needed to be here _now_.

"I'm going to go get the med kit," Sam said, mostly to fill the silence rather than fill Erin in on what he was doing. "Just, hang tight, okay Erin?"

Erin slowly nodded that she understood. Sam walked in to bathroom and grabbed the fully stocked med kit from underneath the sink. As hunters, the Winchesters might be prepared for anything. There was enough stuff in the black bag to suffice normal people for a lifetime. For them, it would be a stroke of luck if it lasted longer than a couple weeks.

He sat down at the end of the bed and began wrapping Erin's ankle in an Ace bandage. Every so often, she would flinch when Sam touched a tender spot, but remained mostly silence as he did his work.

Once he was done with the ankle, Sam walked over to Erin's side and debated what to do next. "You okay?" he asked.

"Now I'm cold," Erin said. Sam noticed her shivering.

Sam grabbed a blanket from the bottom of the bed, chuckling. "Are you going through menopause or something?"

Erin remained silent—not amused.

"Too soon?"

She nodded.

Sam immediately felt horrible for making such a comment. But, with everything that just happened, he thought Erin needed some cheering up. Guess she really wasn't in the mood right now.

"It doesn't look like you have a concussion," Sam noted, since she didn't really show any of the signs for having one. "But I suggest you try to stay awake, just in case. Some of your cuts look like they need some cleaning." He grabbed some medicated wipes from the kit. "This might sting a little."

Erin kept the flinching to a minimum as Sam practically soaked her arms and stomach in the medicine. Even though it would use up a lot of her strength, she wiped down her own chest—neither of them liking the idea of Sam doing it himself.

By the time Erin was taken care of, Dean walked into the motel room carrying Erin's backpack and a small suitcase. "I grabbed Erin some stuff before I set the trailer on fire."

"You what?" Erin shrieked.

"I'm sorry," Dean said sincerely. "It was the only way."

Sam's heart twanged for Erin. Dean had just purposefully destroyed Erin's home. But, Sam still had to agree—it was the only way.

"Maybe she should change into some pajamas," Dean suggested, digging through the small suitcase until he came across a pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt.

Erin nodded and started standing up. Sam helped her towards the bathroom and Dean handed off the clothes.

"I think I can handle getting dressed myself," Erin said, hobbling into the bathroom. Sam had no intentions of helping her, but the faint smile on her face made Sam glad that she still had a sense of humor, even if it was at Sam's expense.

As Erin got dressed in the bathroom, Sam turned towards Dean. "So…what now?"

"Now, we wait for Dad and see what he says about this," Dean said. "I dunno what he'll do with Erin and he certainly won't be happy that this…vision or whatever you had actually came true."

Sam completely forgot about how this whole thing started. The memories of what could have been came flooding back to me. He had to remind himself that Erin was healthy (barely) and alive, getting dressed in the bathroom. She was fine…she was fine.

"No, but he should be proud of the fact that we saved her and that you exorcised a demon." Sam was always looking for the positives, even though a lot of his thoughts seemed to head towards the negatives.

The familiar roar of the Impala's engine sent Sam right back into panic mode. He wasn't ready to face John—not just yet.

It was then when he realized how deep he was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Beneath the Bleeding - Chapter Four**

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><p><strong>Warnings: <strong>child-abuse (not on the boys), swearing and innuendo

**Disclaimer: **No matter how many birthday wishes I waste on it, I still don't own Supernatural

**Author's Note: **Happy New Year, everyone!

* * *

><p>Sam couldn't look up at John as he walked through the motel door. How was he going to explain his vision? How was he going to explain Erin? Sam just wanted to run away and never look back.<p>

"What's going on, Dean?" John asked. Of course, his hunter's instinct would flare up and deduce that something was wrong. Mainly because there were noises coming from the bathroom and Sam and Dean were both in the main room.

"Um…Dad," Sam started, but Dean cut him off. He explained what happened in the last few hours. The vision, the demon and even explained how and why a girl named Erin was currently getting changed into some pajamas in the bathroom. The only thing he, thankfully, left out was Sam's feelings for Erin.

For the most part, John was silent as he sorted through the many emotions he without a doubt had. The silence that remained, however, suffocated Sam. He wanted—no, _needed_—John to say something, even though Sam was worried to no end on what he was going to say.

"Please, say something, Dad," Sam practically pleaded.

"I'm not happy about the vision," John admitted. Well, it was a start. "But, it obviously worked out for the better, since you did stop the demon and save that girl's life." He sat down at the kitchenette, a look of configuring on his face. He was trying to think of what to do about Sam's visions and about what to do with Erin.

"Do you know if the girl has any family?" John asked.

All eyes were on Sam now. He'd be the only one who would know, besides Erin. However, she seemed to be smart enough to stay in the bathroom.

"I don't know," Sam said. "She never really talked about her family…."

John considered his youngest son's words. "We can figure this out in the morning," John said, standing up. "For now, she can stay here tonight."

Sam didn't let his relief show. At least John wasn't so heartless that he was going to make Erin fend for herself, especially with the state she was in.

"But, first, we need to figure something out," John said. Of course, there was going to be a catch. There is always a catch when it comes to John Winchester. "Can you go get the girl, Sam? We need to get a few facts straight."

Sam nodded and crossed the short distance to the bathroom. He knocked gently, trying to get Erin's attention. There was some muffled reply, and Sam debated on what she actually said.

"Um, listen," Sam said, his eyes darting between the oak door and his family over by the kitchenette. "My dad's here and…and he needs to talk to you."

Erin slowly opened the door. She was dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt. The cuts and bruises along her arms made Sam cringe, but he hoped he didn't physically show it.

"I'm scared," she mouthed. Sam understood. Even though she had never met the man, one can't help themselves but cower next to a man like John Winchester. He had a strong aura to him—and mostly not in a good way.

But, despite all that, Sam still reassured Erin by mouthing, "Don't be."

Sam walked back towards the kitchenette, helping Erin since she couldn't even put any weight on her injured ankle. When he stopped in front of John and Dean, Sam realized that he should at least try to give formal introductions. "Dad, this is Erin. Erin, this is my dad." Talk about awkward.

"I'd say I'm pleased, but…" Erin tapered off. If Sam had to guess, he was pretty sure she wasn't really planning on saying something but felt the need to.

"No, I understand," John said. He looked just as uncomfortable. Many times he had to tell children that their parents were killed by some bad mofo. However, this hit a little too close to home for John's liking. "We just…we just need to figure out a few things."

Erin nodded, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. She looked like she was going to be sick. Sam subtly squeezed her shoulder for mental support. She was definitely going to need it if she was going to have to answer any of John's questions. This was definitely personal to her, especially with her father's death involved.

"Okay, first off, we need to figure out why Sam had a vision."

"Whoa, wait, vision? What vision?" She looked at Sam expectantly. He was the only one who was going to be able to explain this to Erin. There was no falling back on Dean this time.

Sam, slowly and carefully choosing his words, explained how he had a vision about her dad killing her. Well, what he thought was her dad later on ended up being a demon using her father as a meatsuit, but that wasn't important at the moment.

"Okay, first you have a vision and then my dad was a demon? Someone better explain to me how _The Shining_ and _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ are suddenly real?"

Sam cringed. He forgot that, in trying to figure all this out, that he would have to explain the Winchester family business to Erin. Thankfully, John jumped into the long explanation. Of course, he didn't get very far. He was explaining how Mary died in Sam's nursery when he was five years old. Erin rudely stopped him and said, "Wait, my mom died exactly the same way."

"Pinned on the ceiling?"

"Yes."

"In your nursery?"

"When I was six months old. I always thought my dad was insane when he went on his drunken rants about how he found my mom like that. Now, maybe he wasn't so far-off after all."

Sam's heart was lodged in his throat. The turning point that ruined his life forever happened to Erin—sweet, innocent Erin. He couldn't believe that something like that would happen to her. It just didn't seem right. No one else should have gone through what he, Dean and John had to deal with on a daily basis.

Many emotions crossed John's face. Bewilderment, sadness and…fear? Yes, fear was definitely in the mix. Something John normally did not show—ever.

"Well, at least we figured out why the demon was trying to kill Erin," Dean said, breaking the deafening silence. "Not that that's a good thing, or anything."

"I guess this is a lot more serious than I thought," John said, running a hand down his face in thought. "It seems that you two have some sort of common ground."

Sam didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like it at all. He didn't like the fact that Erin was part of this world that has haunted Sam right from his earliest memories. All he wanted was to go out on a date with her. He felt solely responsible for this happening to her. Even though it technically wasn't his fault, he still felt guilt as if he was in control of Erin's fate.

"There's some research I need to do—people to call," John looked up towards Sam and he shied away from his father's gaze. "Why don't you kids get some rest? We head out in the morning."

John was heading out the door when Erin asked, "What about me? What are you going to do with me?" She sounded like John was just going to leave her to fend for herself. If he did, Sam was definitely going to fight this. There was no way he was going to allow that to happen to Erin.

"You'll head with us," John said, casually. "For now, I think it's the best." With that, he walked out of the motel room, already reaching for the cell phone in his pocket.

Sam just stared at the door John just closed. He looked at Erin who looked as shocked as he felt. The two of them met less then forty-eight hours ago and now Erin was going to travel with them as they figured out what caused their families so much pain.

After an hour or so, John came back into the motel room. Sam eventually convinced that Erin should go to bed to help with her recovery, so she was reluctantly sleeping in the bed farthest from the entrance. Dean lounged on the other bed with a car magazine in his hands, but Sam doubted that he was actually reading it since his eyes haven't moved and he has never turned the page.

"What did I tell you boys?" John demanded, his façade when Erin was awake was gone. He was certainly not in the mood to take any crap from his sons.

"To go to bed," Dean said, blandly. "We're just a little confused on the sleeping arrangements."

That much was true. Normally, Sam and Dean would share a bed and John would get his own. But, now that Erin was put into the equation and the fact that she was a girl…

"Dean, you take the couch," John commanded, pointing to the deformed, leather piece of furniture. "I trust Sam to share a bed with Erin then you."

Dean looked like he was about to make a comment on how Sam was the one who was infatuated with Erin, but Sam vigorously shook his head to stop Dean. It wasn't like Sam had planned on doing any funny business with Erin. He just didn't roll that way.

"Fine," Dean said instead. He stood up from the bed and headed over to the couch.

John walked into the bathroom and Sam hesitantly climbed into bed opposite Erin. He was afraid that the jostling movement would wake Erin. She squirmed a little as Sam settled under the covers, but she remained asleep.

"Remember Sammy, Dad and I are in the same room," Dean chuckled. "Don't even think about doing anything."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I wasn't, jerk."

"Bitch," Dean muttered, turning off the lights and the room enveloped into darkness.

Sam couldn't sleep. He kept his back to Erin; afraid that she'd think he was a creeper if she woke up to find him facing her. He was increasingly questioning his every move when it comes to Erin. He still wasn't sure on her feelings towards him, if she doesn't already think of him as a monster.

He eventually started to doze off, but a gentle hand touching his arm made him flinch. He turned around in the bed to face a wide-awake Erin.

"Oh, sorry," she whispered. "Did I wake you?"

Sam shook his head. He looked around at the room. John was still in the bathroom and Dean was completely out for the count. For a while now, Erin and him might be safe to talk.

"I'm really sorry, Erin," Sam said, giving her an apologetic look. "I never wanted you to find out what I'm really like."

"A psychic supernatural hunter?" Erin questioned. She probably meant it to be a joke, but Sam was far from amused. He gave her a faint smile, just so she doesn't feel bad for making that comment.

"Well, the psychic thing is kinda new," Sam admitted. "But, yeah, I'm still a supernatural hunter-in-training." For some reason, it felt good to tell Erin all this. He was never allowed to tell anyone else about the family business beyond those in the family business. He only had Dean and John to talk to, and he couldn't tell them half the stuff that he could tell Erin. "It sucks, really—traveling around, seeing so much death every day. I'm sorry you had to be dragged into it."

Erin sighed deeply. "It was kinda inevitable."

"I'm still sorry about it."

Silence fell upon the duo. They just looked at each other, as if they were having a mute conversation with their eyes alone. Sam just wished he had someone to translate for him.

"Can I tell you something?" Sam asked Erin. It was like earlier in geometry class. His mouth was moving before his brain could think of something to say.

"Sure," she said, studying Sam closely in the dim lighting. Sam began to panic that she wasn't going to agree with what he was about to tell her.

"I really like you," Sam finally said, wishing more than life itself that he could take it back. It was stupid of him. The girl just lost her father. She was almost killed by a demon. There was no selfless reason for saying what he just said.

"I-I'm sorry, Erin, that was—" Sam was immediately silenced by Erin placing her finger firmly on Sam's lips.

"Don't be sorry," she said. "I like you, too."

Relief flooded Sam. As if he was moving on automatic, he moved closer to Erin and she didn't object. She snuggled closer to his chest and they wordlessly lay there, holding each other for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Beneath the Bleeding - Chapter Five**

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><p><strong>Warnings: <strong>child-abuse (not on the boys), swearing and innuendo

**Disclaimer: **No matter how many birthday wishes I waste on it, I still don't own Supernatural

**Author's Note: **I give a big thank to those who reviewed. You all are awesome!

* * *

><p>The next morning, Sam was the first to wake. Neither of them moved all night, so he carefully moved away from Erin. He didn't want to, but he had to. He couldn't afford Dean and John waking up to see the two of them cuddling. When they have some alone time together, Sam was definitely going to have to mention to Erin that this should be their own dirty little secret.<p>

Sam smiled at the thought. Who knew that he would go from being afraid of asking Erin out on a date and now they were…something. Boyfriend/girlfriend? Maybe. Sam hoped so. He was pretty sure that the two of them admitting their feelings meant that they were together, right?

Right?

He didn't know how long he just laid there watching Erin sleep. He hoped that her dreams were pleasant—not full of the nightmares that already plague her living world. She should create a world that she can escape to when reality became chaos. Sam had to create one long ago. It was how things should have been with his family: Mary alive, John more father than drill sergeant and Dean being more brother than Sam's constant protector.

Now, his fantasy world consisted of Erin—her life perfect as his should be.

God, he wanted his and Erin's normal life to be real.

The alarm clock set for five-thirty went off. On the second beep, John slammed it off. Sam was suddenly blinded by the lamp that was suddenly on. Erin squirmed and cracked her eyes open. Sam gave her an apologetic smile for how blunt John was in waking them up in the morning.

"Alright, I want to hit the road in thirty," John announced.

Packing went slower than usual with the extra person, especially since—after Sam checked on her ankle—that Erin should still keep weight off it, at least for another couple of days.

"I'm sorry for being worthless," Erin said as Sam packed up her own bag. John and Dean were out by the Impala, arranging the many weapons that the Winchesters have collected over the years.

"You aren't worthless," Sam argued, zipping up her bag. He slung it over his shoulder and he used his free arm to help Erin to the door. "I'll make you work double time once your ankle is fully functional."

She playfully stuck her tongue out at him.

Sam chuckled. "You are such a dork sometimes, you know that?"

Erin considered Sam's words, giving a dramatic thinking face. "Yeah, but so are you too."

John slammed the trunk shut just as Sam got Erin seating in the back of the Impala. He assumed that Erin would be sitting in the back with him. Dean would put up a fight if the "new girl" got shotgun. That was his spot and his spot alone.

Before he knew it, the Impala pulled out of the motel parking lot and headed down the highway. Erin was looking out the window, her eyes not really focused on anything particular. But when the school loomed into view, he noted how Erin slyly put up her middle finger at it. Well, there was one thing that she wasn't going to miss of Mooreland.

"So, where are we heading, Dad?" Dean asked, breaking the silence. John was being a little secretive about their next location.

"We're going to visit an old friend," he said. "He might have some information about…whatever the hell is going on."

John didn't need to elaborate on that. Sam understood it had to do with his visions and his and Erin's identical pasts. He looked over at Erin, her face expressionless. He wished he could hear what she was thinking. What John was saying had to cause her to think negative thoughts.

Silence fell and it was suffocating in such a confined space. The sun rose outside Erin's window, creating a halo around her. She looked like an angel and more than anything he just wanted to hold her hand. But he couldn't. Not with John and Dean just in the front seat.

He also wanted to talk to her. He wanted to figure out the mysterious Erin. But, how can he do that without John and Dean overhearing? He looked over at Erin. She looked so lost.

That's when he figured it out.

He opened up his backpack and pulled out one of his school notebooks. He chose one at random, and chuckled silently when he pulled out the one he had for geometry. Dramatic irony, as the many English teachers Sam had over the years would say.

Sam opened it up to the first available blank page.

**Hey.**

Not really an interesting way to start a written conversation, but it was better than nothing.

He tapped on Erin's arm. She jumped up in alarm. Sam shook the notebook in his hand, hoping she'd catch the hint. She grabbed it from him and read the single word on it. She gave him a confused look.

"So we can talk," Sam mouthed.

She smiled in understanding. Using Sam's pen, she wrote something on the notebook and handed it back to him. Her handwriting was neat, a huge contrast to Sam's messy scrawl. His handwriting honestly looked like a five-year-old trying to write for the first time.

**Hey. What's up?**

Sam thought for a moment before replying.

**Just wondering how you were doing.**

**Pretty crappy right now. I can't get what happened last night out of my head.**

He frowned as he read it. But, it was inevitable that she was going to feel that way.

**I'm really sorry that it happened to you.**

Sam couldn't think of anything else to say to that.

Erin wrote quickly, but she seemed to be writing a lot.

**The thing is: I wish it was me. Yeah, my dad was a scum bag at times, but the demon was after me, not him. My dad didn't deserve to die like that.**

Without even thinking about it, Sam rapidly replied—never stopping, never slowing down.

**Your dad was probably dead long before the demon was exorcised out of him. Even if he was a scum bag, I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't want you dead.**

As Erin read what Sam wrote, her expression darkened. Maybe Sam was a little too forward with his reply. He began to panic. Already he had screwed up his relationship with Erin, and they had finally got together.

Her reply was short, but far from sweet.

**Is that supposed to make me feel better?**

Sam's heart skipped a beat. Yeah, it was.

**I'm sorry for saying that. It's not my place.**

**It's fine. I just don't like how you're right about it, that's all.**

He didn't know how to reply to that. The conversation seemed to end just as it was starting. But, it was the truth and it hurt like hell.

Erin took the notebook back from him before he could reply. He watched her as she intently wrote what she needed to say.

**This is depressing. Let's talk about something happier. Like…us? What are we even?**

Sam looked up at her. She looked at him. What was he supposed to say to that? He didn't even know himself and she was expecting him to answer.

**I was hoping girlfriend and boyfriend.**

**But you don't want your dad and brother to know.**

**Dean knows that I have feelings for you, but that's it.**

**So, it would be our dirty little secret?**

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at Erin's words. It was almost as if she could read his mind.

**Yeah, something like that.**

A wide smile was plastered on her face as she wrote.

**We're almost like Romeo and Juliet. But, hopefully, we won't die before our time.**

Sam smiled at the thought. Yeah, they were like Romeo and Juliet. And, somehow, he was okay with that. He was completely okay with that.

Sam and Erin kept up with their asinine conversation about anything and everything—but never once did it stray towards their predicament. It stayed light and carefree, something they both needed.

About midday, John pulled into a mom and pop gas station with a faded sign and a building that needed some major handiwork done to it. This was nothing less than what the Winchesters were used to.

John handed Dean a rare twenty. Usually they were smaller bills from hustling pool, but he must've hit the mother lode the last time he was at a bar. "You kids go get something for lunch. I'm not stopping until we get to our destination."

Sam, Dean and Erin headed into the gas station and wandered the aisles as John filled up the Impala. Sam and Dean were over by the cooler in search of things to drink while Erin hobbled along the chip aisle. She wanted some independence, even if it delayed the healing process.

"Look, Sam," Dean said, as he pulled out a couple pops from the cooler, "I know you have feelings for Erin. Just…make sure Dad never finds out. He'll go ballistic and we don't want that on top of the shit that is already going on."

Sam sighed deeply. "I know that, Dean. But, you said to go for it. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"That was before we were going to be living twenty-four/seven with the girl."

Sam, unfortunately, understood. In health class, he learned that most teenage relationships were just "puppy love". Technically, he and Erin shouldn't last longer than a few months. But, he felt like this relationship was different than the others that Sam heard about. Then again, other young couples might have felt the same exact way.

"Just, be careful, Sam."

"I will," Sam promised. He'd be careful and he wouldn't tell John. But, other than that, Sam was going to—for once—disobey the rest of what Dean told him to do.

A few minutes later, they were on the road again. Sam and Erin tried to keep up their writing conversation, but it was a halfhearted attempt. Eventually, they mutually agreed that they should just end it for now. The rest of the trip was filled with silence—suffocating silence.

Even though John riddled about their next location, the final clue was as obvious as the craters on the moon. As the Impala roared by a sign that said "Now Entering Sioux Falls, South Dakota," Sam began to grin madly.

"We're going to Bobby's?" Sam questioned.

John simply nodded, answering Sam's question positively.

Sam was so excited. He hadn't seen Bobby in a few years. He knew that he and John argued about something one day and they hadn't heard from him since. It was odd how, all of a sudden, that they were going to visit him. It had to do with Sam's vision and Erin being attacked by a demon. There was no other reason.

Erin grabbed the notebook and was in between them. She wrote something quickly and then handed it to Sam.

**Who's Bobby?**

It was hard to describe Bobby Singer in just a few sentences. He was like Sam's second father. In fact, sometimes, he wishes that Bobby was his father instead of John. Bobby understood whereas John was just demanding. Bobby was the type that he probably would be okay with Sam's and Erin's relationship—not that Sam planned on telling him or anything. Just, when the time was right, Bobby would be the first to accept it, maybe even before Dean. Bobby was simply…Bobby. But, Sam did the best he could with his written explanation.

**So, he's a hunter like you guys are.**

**Yes.**

It looked like Erin was going to write a message for Sam, but John pulled into Singer's Salvage and she quickly tucked the notebook back into Sam's bag. Erin gave him a swift little smile before the four of them started filing out of the Impala.

Bobby met them on the front porch. He looked the same as always, which made Sam happy. No matter what happened, Bobby was one of the few constants that Sam had besides John and Dean.

"Hey boys," Bobby said, giving Sam and Dean a hug. Sam noticed how he didn't give a physical greeting to John. Whatever had happened, it obviously still affected him. "And this must be Erin."

"It's nice to meet you…Bobby."

"Well, why don't you go get settled. You boys'll have to share a room. I'm sure the little darlin' would like a break from…them."

No one replied to that. The three of them grabbed their duffels from the trunk of the Impala. Dean led the way down the familiar path through Bobby's house. Sam drew it all in. This was the closest thing he had to a home. It felt like he was a soldier coming home from the war. It just felt…right.

Dean stopped at the room that he was going to share with Sam, but Sam continued to the end of the hall until he reached the room he usually took. It wasn't much of a room. It looked like the stereotypical guest room with a simple double bed, a dresser and a view of the salvage yard. Erin just stood at the door, as if she was waiting for an engraved invitation from Sam.

"What's wrong?"

Erin shook her head. "It's just…never mind." She closed stepped inside and closed the door on Sam. He just stood there, flabbergasted on what just happened. Back in the Impala, she seemed fine. Now…Sam just didn't know what to do.

He walked back into the room he was sharing with Dean. Dean already claimed the bed closest to the door, as he always does. Sam walked to the other bed and threw his duffel onto it. It hit the edge of the bed before falling onto the ground with a loud _thud_.

"You okay, man?" Dean asked, lounging on his own bed. "You seem…tense."

"I'm just worried about Erin," Sam said. "She lost her dad just last night. And then she had to learn about the hell-bent things out there and, somehow, she is connected to it. She was then instantly uprooted from the only town she ever called home and is now in South Dakota."

"Sam, let me teach you a little something about girls. They're emotion—even more so than you are. She just needs some time to adjust."

Sam sat down on the bed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Down stairs, in Bobby's study, Bobby and John sat around an old, worn desk. They each had a glass of scotch in their hands. Bobby studied John intently, trying to figure out the friend he hadn't seen in ages

"I'm surprised at you, John," Bobby said. He took a sip of the scotch. The cheap booze burned his throat. It felt good.

"How's that?"

"Erin. I figured you'd try to find someone else to take her, not bring her along."

"When I first found out about her, I wanted to. I really did Bobby. But…then she said that her mother was killed like Mary and, it got me thinking. She might be useful."

"How so?"

"I dunno. I have a feeling that, if my suspicions are correct, then she'll have visions like Sam had." God, he hated saying those words. For years, he killed the supernatural. Suddenly, his son was part of it. Even though the kid is a pain in his ass a lot, he wouldn't abandon him—certainly not the last gift he got from his precious Mary.

"So, you're only keeping her around because she might help you in your fight against whatever killed Mary," Bobby said, not pleased with what John was telling him. Well, that's John Winchester for you.

John finished off his drink before saying, "Something around that."


End file.
